


Road To Mystery

by Hanako_Cinnamon



Series: New Boots and Contracts [3]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Arguing, F/M, M/M, Road Trips, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanako_Cinnamon/pseuds/Hanako_Cinnamon
Summary: Stan and Rick driving back to Gravity Falls post-Beer And No Clothing In Las Vegas. Reader isn't present, but is there in spirit (and fond memories.)
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Reader, Stan Pines/Reader, Stan Pines/Reader/Rick Sanchez, Stan Pines/Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Series: New Boots and Contracts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1485512
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49





	Road To Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This is just a short piece that follows Stan and Rick on the road back to Gravity Falls. The title is from the old Crosby/Hope "Road To..." movies, about which I have always assumed a lot of fic was written in their day. At any rate, please accept this until I get the next part of the series done, which, I'm not gonna lie, is going to be a while. We're hitting hell season in retail and my writing time will be severely curtailed until January.  
> Enjoy! Or not! It's up to you!

The desert miles passed slowly, despite their joint agreement that speed limits were for mountain roads and populated areas. Las Vegas was about as far away from Oregon as it was possible to get and still be in Nevada, and true to form, Rick began to bring this up after the third hour of sand and dirt and innumerable scrub trees and brush.

“I’m just saying, we could already be back- “

“You’re always just saying that every time we leave the damn house, “ Stan replied, not taking his eyes from the road, “I like driving. You know I like driving. ‘Sides, the car needs a long run here and there to blow out the engine. All those short hops in the Falls aren’t good for it. My baby’s made for the long haul.”

Rick rolled his eyes and turned on the seat to point at the dash. “Your car doesn’t need _eight hundred miles_ to clear out carbon deposits-”

“You said you wanted to ride back with me-”

“It’ll circulate all the oil at optimum temperature at around two hundred miles-”

“Ricky, shut up already.”

Stan sighed as Rick flopped back in his seat and reached for the radio, clicking it on for the dozenth time and snarling as it once again skipped from gospel stations to static and back. Rick swore, drawing breath in for a tirade, and Stan reached over and snapped the radio off.

There was silence for a while as the car thrummed and the desert slipped by the windows. Finally Rick cracked his window and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and blowing it out through the gap as the cold air rushed out and the heat rushed in.

“What’s got you all pissy?” he asked, tapping the ashes out the window.

“You mean besides your whining?”

Rick gestured with the cigarette. “Don't tell me you're- you're not used to me by now. You miss her already, huh?”

“Thought I told you to shut up.”

“You tell me a lot of things.” Rick grinned and set the cigarette to Stan’s lips. Stan took a thoughtful puff and the broken yellow lines flashed by.

“It’s not just that, " he said finally, "It’s...everything. How long have I been working on that goddamned thing and still-”

“We’re going to figure it out, “ Rick said softly, “Swear to you, Lee baby, we’re gonna- there’s a way, I promise. We're gonna find it.”

Stan glanced at him briefly with a small smile.

“Thanks.”

Rick picked the map off the floor and looked at it, glancing out the window at the mile markers as they passed. He nodded to himself and folded it back up before tucking it in the glove compartment.

“The weekend help a little?” he said.

“ ‘Course. Just a shame it had to end.”

"Doesn't have to."

Rick slid over across the bench seat and ran a fingertip down the front of Stan's shirt.

"I mean, it's a long trip and all, may as well make the time go by faster."

Stan snorted, but did not protest when Rick slid the palm of his hand over Stan's thigh to the button on his jeans.

"What was your favorite part?" he asked slowly, self-satisfied smile in his voice as he leaned in to nuzzle over the zipper, "She was such a good girl for us, I know you love when they work so hard to please. Was it when you watched her take my cock, so desperate she couldn't speak? Or was it your little escapade after the restaurant? What did- where did you end up?"

"The swanky men's room, the VIP one, " Stan said huskily, "Danced, went to the tables, then had her up against the wall, made sure God an' everybody heard her come."

Rick nodded, and unbuttoned Stan's jeans, reaching in to pull his already mostly hard cock free. A few generous licks and it was fully erect, Stan groaning softly while Rick grinned.

"I like watching you with her, " he said between long, slow licks and quick sucks "I need- want to see you eat her out again, watch her hang on to your hair while she screams. And she looks so damned good with her lips on a cock- we should, should have her blow us both at once-"

Stan's breath hitched and his foot lifted fractionally from the accelerator. 

"Maybe see if she'll wear a collar?" Another long suck, with a stroke along his shaft. "See if she'll call you sir? We both could-" A long, languid lick from base to head, "Would you like that? Both of, both of us on our knees in front of you?"

Stan groaned, and as he hitched his hips forward his foot lifted further off the accelerator, one hand leaving its white-knuckle grip on the wheel to pet Rick's hair.

Rick glanced up at the dash and nodded, then reached one long arm down and smashed the pedal flat to the floor. The car leapt forward and Stan snarled and stamped down on the brake. The engine roared and then began to sputter as the car slowed. Rick laughed and and then yelped as Stan grabbed him by the ear and pulled him upward, tossing him bodily back into his seat.

“That’s it, “ Stan snapped, and slewed the car over two lanes and into the suddenly adjacent off-ramp for a rest stop, tires catching the gravel at the side of the asphalt and spinning for a moment as he pulled hand over hand on the wheel to straighten out.

He threw the car into park across two spaces and pulled Rick out the driver's side door with him. Heat hit them and then cold as he pushed them through the doors and into the empty rest area.

The restroom was also deserted when Stan dragged Rick through the door, their boots clattering on the tile. He threw open the door to a stall and dragged Rick in, shoving him face-first against the wall so it rattled in its fittings and the breath left Rick's lungs with a wheeze.

“What was the first thing I told you when we got together? You do _not_ mess with my fucking _car_.”

His teeth found the side of Rick’s neck as his hands pulled at Rick’s belt. Rick moaned and arched back against him as Stan slid Rick's jeans down to his knees and then started in on his own belt.

"Wouldn't have done any real damage, " he said, moaning as Stan continued to leave teeth marks along the curve of his neck, "The brake will override the accelerator-"

"Shut. Up."

Stan finished shoving down his jeans and slid his cock between Rick's thighs. He grunted and began to pump his hips to a litany of snarled praise.

"That's it, baby, just like that, Jesus, it took you long enough-"

Rick reached back and slid his fingers through Stan's hair, clamping his legs together as Stan moaned at the increased grip on his dick, holding Rick tightly by the hips, bites turning to kisses as he sped up.

"That's it, Stan baby, paint my balls with it-"

Stan groaned and came, rhythm collapsing into a few frantic thrusts as his cock pulsed and twitched, spurt after spurt smearing over Rick's inner thighs as Rick hummed in satisfaction.

Stan rested his head against Rick's back a moment, panting, before turning Rick to face him.

"I should toss you back into the car and let you stew until we get to Battle Mountain, " he said finally, "You can take your chances in the truck stop there.”

“You should, but you won’t, “ Rick grinned, and Stan rolled his eyes.

"Could you at least try an' pretend to be sorry?"

"What's there to be sorry about? I've got your spunk all over me and you're about to-"

Stan cut him off with a kiss, wrapping his fingers around the back of Rick's head to pull their faces together. One hand slid down along Rick's chest, thumbing over each piercing to a sharp intake of breath, down over his lean waist and the crease of his thigh, and finally closed around his cock.

"Yesssss, " Rick hissed, and Stan grinned and began a series of quick, hard strokes, Rick curling over him and snarling again, long fingers grabbing his back and holding tight. A shudder ran up his spine, and another, and suddenly he froze, Stan still grinning as he stroked Rick through his orgasm, listening to the long harsh breaths rattling through his teeth. Rick moaned gratefully as the last few aftershocks shook him, and Stan stroked the side of his face gently.

The cleanup was a comfortably silent affair; the restroom had paper towels and not the new air dryers, so they were presentable in a short amount of time. 

They wandered around the still-deserted vestibule for a while, Rick fishing around in his pockets for loose change while Stan browsed the selection of flyers for roadside attractions. Rick bought a soda and a cup of vending machine coffee, along with a couple of packets of chocolates which he tucked into his jacket pocket. After the coffee machine finished rattling and hissing he took his steaming styrofoam cup and handed the soda to Stan, who nodded affably and took it, sipping slowly.

When they'd finished, Stan yawned hugely as they walked back to the car.

"Gimme the keys, " Rick said, and Stan hesitated until another yawn interrupted his reply. He shrugged and dug them out of his pocket.

Rick slid the bench seat as far back as it would go, grumbling, as Stan stretched and yawned again.

“If you’d wanted to drive, you could have fucking asked.”

“Mm-hm, “ Rick nodded absently, “This was more fun.”

The El Diablo pulled out of the slip road and onto the highway, Rick shifting gears smoothly and hitting highway speed.

“You like her too, you know, “ Stan said after a while.

“Attachments are futile.”

“Sure, Ricky. Sure.”

Stan settled back against the leather seat and sighed contentedly. The car thrummed, the desert passed by, and in a few minutes he was asleep.

Two weeks later you returned from class and upon stepping into your living room were completely nonplussed to find a large, beautiful carpet in place of the one that had been in the apartment since you moved in.


End file.
